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Thursday, 17 November 2016

Fauconbergs Raiders and the usefulness of Fear

There is weird and strange out on the edges of the Prydian Precinct and it falls to some of the less famous and smaller Companies to police these places. Sometimes with great results and sometimes not so great results. The fate of the Fauconbergs Raiders at Govian Prime was something worse. The Florians abound. Created by and written for you by Aris Kolehmainen they are his notion of an exotic force in Patrol Angis and this is their story.

You can download this article as a PDF from our Drop Box by clicking HERE.

The Prydian Precinct

13 Fauconbergs Raiders

A letter to the Princess Cyon, marked “Urgent // For Her Majesty's Eyes Only”

Your Highness,

As requested, I have delved into the archives, as well as compiled reports of what is being spoken of among your forces, in light of recent events, as “Fauconbergs raiders”.

In brief; reports of the “Raiders” have been cropping up infrequently throughout known space. These encounters are, at this time, seemingly random. I should also make note that many of these sightings have some sort of, dare I say, “supernatural” element to them. It is my further belief that most of these “odd” happenings may be some ancient technology long forgotten, or perhaps merely illusions built from the stress of being on the front lines in times like these. We should not give ourselves into superstition and 'magical tales' so quickly.

I present to you this report of the most recent encounter with the Raiders which has hence given them their namesake. A general overview of what happened in the nearly two weeks that Govian Prime went off the grid has been compiled below from a variety physical of evidence.

The world of Govian Prime is settled well in the heart of the League of Canlaster, a tranquil planet of lush jungles, shallow blue pools, and warm days. A dense iron core meant that the magnetic field of the planet was strong enough to repel most of all the radiation from it’s local star meaning long sunny days, and a stunted evolution of native species (all of which were quickly overtaken by more agreeable fauna and flora). Set so far away from the civil war, and so deep in its home territory, It was an ideal pleasure world.

On a day in mid-Autumn, patrons of the the pleasure planet noted that the sky seemed unusually dark, and the temperature had cooled somewhat. For twelve days, the sky became progressively darker, and the air cooler. Animals seemed to go into hiding, and the trees began to change from lush green to oranges and reds before all leaves turned brown and fell to the ground. Many of those dwelling on the world became concerned and attempted to contact the local League garrison, but to their dismay it seemed that all communications off world had been cut off.

It is from the words of the Baron James Fauconberg, that we are able to somewhat piece together some semblance of what happened. The following account was transcribed from a data-pad located in the crumbled husk of a building, (we assume the Baron's Palace) which we were able to smuggle off-world [Report: CMO-00251.1_X].

Though not my place to assume such things, Your Grace may find this disturbing.

***

[Recording begins]

0700

It has been thirteen days since the atmospheric disturbances. This morning we noticed the glow from what once was the lush and beautiful Hovold Jungle, though now it reminds me more of a boneyard. Just grey-brown skeletons of what were once beautiful trees. There is a smell in the air, a spiciness I can’t quite place. I see in those woods some large, orange plants, I don’t recall them from yesterday. Will send a group to investigate later. Too much piled on my desk for too early in the morning.

0730

Guests report laughter from somewhere, like women cackling at them. They are disturbed, but so far “it is only the stress of this oddness getting to you” has seemed to settle many minds, or at least shut them up.

0815

I hear it too. Where is it coming from. And that smell?

0945

An explosion was reported at Sector 148, no casualties reported, but we also haven’t been able to enable any form of contact with the sector. The laughter is getting more frequent, it seems to come from the walls itself. Women cackling, men bellowing, it’s as if I am being mocked by unseen critics. I will have none of it, whoever is pulling this prank will pay dearly for this.

1011

Staff have reported the orange growths in the wood have begun to move. I don’t understand, but I’ve told all staff to form into their militia groups, and have sent patrons to their quarters.

1050

The glow is getting brighter out there, that sickly green. What is in those woods?

I have received reports from across Govian Prime that militias have formed, and ISV’s and coat vehicles are at 70% activated. I too have armed myself. My father’s pistol, it served him well.

Truth be told, I have never lead men in combat before, and I still pray I won’t have to.

[Pistol fire followed by a wet pop. This repeats four more times, estimated five successful kills]

They’re like… sentient plants, great orange globes with glowing eyes and twisted mouths… They killed my clerk. Their arms seem to shoot some kind of thorns but they only seem lethal at very close range, but they…

[sound of vomiting]

They seem to have swarmed him, he’s… he looks rotted. What have they done…? I need to leave. Need to escape.

[explosion in distance, very clear feminine laughter from distance.]

(Whispering) Go away…

1300

[Female voice, unable to make out words spoken]

(Whispering) Couldn’t make it out, more of those orange plant things, women in armor with tall hats, they guided them told them where to go, what to do. They obeyed, obeyed like a well-trained dog.

[Something crashes to the ground, wood splinters]

They’re getting close, they overran the militia, they projected the screams of the dying back though our communicators along with the laughter [something shatters].

[Yelling and a single shot fired, clatter noise, assumed that at this point the Fauconberg has dropped his pistol]

(Whimpering) No no no no no… don’t… don’t… what do you want? Who.. What… What are you?

[there is a wet chop and the sound of a man screaming]

(Masculine voice, gravely, seems to resonate) Horror… everlasting...

[There is a loud cracking noise and recording ends]

***

For the last three years, we have received reports of raids similar to that of Fauconbergs Raiders, going by different names depending on garrison, (the 11th Salvide reported a “Legion of Terror”, the Prydian 44th stated a brief skirmish with “Wytches” and their army of sentient plant soldiers, and going back in the record, we find numerous tales of the “Damned” or “Geist” Legion).

One connecting factor is that all reports note that the leader is apparently a man of some impressive build in antiquated Alwite armor that is rent and damaged, and a skeletal visage.

[Note: The reports says that the armor is worn by a living skeleton, but that seems frankly outlandish]

I will update your Highness further as more information comes to light, but for now, we must remain vigilant as always.

The raiders play hard on psychological warfare, and so should you! Fauconbergs Raiders play on fear, and forcing your opponent to reevaluate their strategy every single turn. You can turn the tide of a game with well placed Minstrel shot, keep that opposing close combat unit from getting too close, or even scare them right off the board!

Wytches and the Undead. Fauconbergs

Raiders MUST utilize the following rules:

Any demi/squad/fire team/etc. with support weapons must use at least one Minstrel Taser or Pardoner Flame Projector

All infantry units must be lead by a single Banneret with the Mystic ability. The Banneret is not restricted to the above rule for special weapons

Callsign Taranis: Units that have the ability to, must take Blinding Light Rounds

These small considerations aside, you have no force restrictions. Every unit that was slain or captured, finds new service in the Raiders. This is a great opportunity for simple concepts like “zombie militia” or an all female unit of “Retained Wytches”. When I was coming up with conversions for my own army, it was even suggested I could do a “Headless Horseman” by simply decapitating one of my Khamels and adding some flames to the model, (I’m tempted).

To put it simply: If it feels like something you would see on Halloween night, then you’re on the right path.

Something Wicked...

The Ion Age provides some great one-off’s that fit this theme in their Yearly Collections, such as Year One’s “The Knight of the Dead” (who is the perfect mini to represent the Phantom Baron). I personally love Year Three’s Florian Pumpkin Spore. The arms are easily poseable, and they make for a great replacement for close combat centred infantry.

You may have noticed the number heading this article. This ties to the uniform reference on our Uniforms of the Prydian Precinct Poster which shows in detail thirty different uniforms of troops. See it HERE.

This concludes the introduction to the Fauconbergs Raiders and we hope you enjoyed it and are inspired to take your place in the wars raging across the Prydian Precinct.

Online Fans of the Ion Age

The Ion Age

Near a thousand years has passed since the galaxy brought itself to the brink of extinction in the Wars of the Khanate. Dragon ships burned a thousand worlds and humanity sank to its knees amid the ruins of its once glittering stellar commonwealth. At the battle for the Aldan star system the Ban of Prejudice was lifted and for once the liberated soldiers of the Free Companies stood shoulder to shoulder with the gene soldiers of the sterile Imperial Commonwealth; mankind once more united to stop an overwhelming alien threat. A billion men and woman died fighting and the matter gateway on Aldan IV newly built by the Khanate spewed forth legions from across the galactic plane at a rate that even the fanatical Templars of the Free Companies could not halt. It was then, according to the scorched records of the Starvaulters, that the Templars committed the greatest act of treachery even committed upon the body of humanity; creating the Dolorous Expanses. Whole star systems vanished and were replaced with impenetrable clouds of dust, covering dozens of light years each. An artefact of ancient design in the Aldan system, discovered by the Templars but kept secret, the Dolorous Expanses ended the wars at a stroke. Death and destruction beyond toll, changing the very face of the galaxy and all was still; the Free Companies cast out the Templars and the Imperium retreated into its shattered self. The Khanate...gone…for the time being.

Dark times followed and the fate of mankind looked grim, starvation gained hold and commerce fell to the wayside, as few starships could navigate the Dolorous Expanses and contact with the clouds meant instant obliteration. Inhabited worlds tortured their peoples in desperate acts of accelerated terra-forming; needing the land to feed themselves now that commerce was gone. The once zealot and fanatical Free Companies settled into an agrarian civilisation of fifty worlds bonded loosely by their ruling Barons, those of the Free Companies who had retained the armour and weapons of the mighty Crusader regiments.

On worlds such as New Glastonbury and its orbiting Tor these Barons consolidated their powers and on the whole were good to their people, they needed to be; too much had been lost already. Centuries passed and the region of space containing these green and pleasant worlds became known as the Prydian Precinct. Each stellar system looked to itself for sustenance and as technology returned the mighty starships refined their engines and learned how to use the titanic power of the Ion to generate intense magnetic fields and transport themselves instantly from one system to the next avoiding the deadly 'Dolo Clouds'. The need for a collective leadership became clear once more.

The core systems of Prydian space elected a council of Barons, who became the Aeddan's, to lead them and from among their number a titular head was chosen; a king to act on the behalf of all. To prevent the possible imperial ambitions of the past no standing army was allowed to be in the hands of the Aeddan Council or the King who resided on New Glastonbury. Each system would tend to its own needs to fend off pirates and mercenaries who did not respect the King's laws. Allotted to the Aeddan and the King were the million strong Starvaulters, an armed retinue to police the Prydian Precinct, but with no authority or desire to interfere with the Barons and their worlds; their impartiality was all that kept a vital respect for their judgements in matters the Barons could not agree upon.

For a time this arrangement worked and then war once more threatened the worlds of the Prydian Precinct, and war required troops. Millions of soldiers dressed once more in the augmented armour of their forefathers once more took to the field of battle on a hundred planets and countless orbiters and asteroids. It was in war that disaster fell, King Cyon III was killed, and he left his infant daughter in his place. A mere babe could not administer the needs of the Aeddan and their billions of charges, a guardianship was needed. The duty fell to Reckart Nevall a mighty Baron known as the 'Kingmaker' but his guardianship was not greeted by all with joy, over the fifteen years that followed two great camps grew within Prydian space and the Aeddan council split in twain.

A minor Baron whose world Kendal III was poor but populous brought the building tension to a head. Baron Kacj Dace rebelled against a judgement of the Starvaulters and called upon the Marcher Barons of the outer systems of Prydian space to assist him. This they did, seeing the Starvaulters as nothing more than Nevall's retinue to ensure his false control of the Aeddan Council. Naming themselves the League of Canlaster they elected Prince Edmund Bluefort as their rightful heir to the crown of Prydia and attacked Kendal III destroying the small force of Starvaulters on the planet. This single act ignited a civil war, a conflict the largest seen by the worlds of Prydian space for centuries. Nevall reacted with rage and called on the support of his own Marcher Barons to control the now teenage Princess Daphne Cyon and the throne she represented. He headed the League of Yordan named for his home world. The first battle of the Prydian Civil War was fought on Kendal III, many more soon followed. An elite strike force of Starvaulters stole Princess Cyon from Nevall's grasp and spirited her away to New Glastonbury where they now reside in force.

It is now the twelfth year of the Civil War and after suffering terrible setbacks and defeats the white and red uniformed troops of the Prydian Army have gained new vigour and are pushing the Leagues to their limit.Led by the veterans of the Starvaulters and driven by the Code Gallant the now adult Princess Daphne Cyon has promised to liberate each and every world in the Precinct and return it to the safe holding of the Addan Council.This she is doing to great effect and none in the Leagues seem able to prevent the cheering crowds and the flocking to the banners of the Addan.The Civil War might be nearing its end and for many this cannot come soon enough.

Rumours abound about the ever increasing numbers of Muster and Retained along with some of the shining lights of the Starvaulters being sent to the remote Carmarthen star cluster.Some have hinted that perhaps the Leagues are not the prime threat to Prydia and something else, something terrible lurks at the edge of Precinct space.An ancient enemy that all the preparation and new vitality of the Prydian Army may not be able to halt.

Do you want to liberate worlds held by the Marcher Barons or resist the advance of the Prydian Army? Or do you dream and fear of what is occurring in the remote Carmarthen star cluster?